Whether To Cry Or Destroy

The salt from my eyes burn

As does the acid of my tongue.

Might I unearth the hatchet

And put it to proper use.

Might a tempest releive me of sound and sight.

My hand is poised, and in fury.

Only thunder gives me rest.

Dare me to breathe

When I cant catch my breath.

Sway my temper's balance.

Only thunder gives me rest.